


red comets burn cold

by dledee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Manly Tears, poor harp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7240783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dledee/pseuds/dledee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt at valar-morekinks for "Elia gets so angry at Rhaegar when he crowns Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty that she smashes his harp. Rhaegar cries pathetically."</p>
            </blockquote>





	red comets burn cold

Her tears are all cried out when her husband returns to their rooms, she has excused herself from the banquet, a half lie about how it made her nauseous in her current situation. It does. But there's also the fact that her lord and prince has decided to crown someone other than his wife as his Queen of Love and Beauty. She cares not for the title, has been teasing Oberyn about him winning the tournament and crowing her ever since they've been reunited, but it would be nice if Rhaegar would for once think of the consequences before acting, if her husband would consider how much harder it is for her to gain favor in a court that feels as if they don't need to respect her because her husband certainly doesn't. And the little one inside her has been putting her through every emotion imaginable. Rhaenys was easier. Rhaenys who's off taking advantage of the fact that she has so many children her age to play with.  
  
Elia needs not turn from her mirror to feel Rhaegar stop precisely where the leftovers of his harp stand. "Oh yes, my lord, I'm afraid your harp's suffered a quite unfortunate accident." It seems like the only thing he concerns himself with. That damn harp. That and now Lyanna Stark. She does not mean to sound bitter, she does not mean to sound petty, but what else is she to do with her lord husband?   
  
Instead of objecting or complaining, he turns to her with a soft voice. Yes, the same she has grown accustomed to hear singing to her and little Rhaenys, but that doesn't matter at all. "Have I done anything to displease you, my lady?" At the words, Elia who is now done with braiding her hair for the night, turns back to him to find tears in those indigo eyes. A momentary regret passes through her mind before her bites her lip. No. She is a Nymeros Martell princess before she is a Targaryen one and she's tired. She's tired of trying so much only so Rhaegar can fail to notice that she even exists! It's enough! She's carrying his second child, she is to be queen of Westeros when his father dies, would her husband wake up and begin to take his duties seriously? He is not some boy who may take a fancy to some random girl and expect no consequences, even his ancestors had to learn that lesson.  
  
"No. You have merely hurt my position at court, perhaps irreversibly, for a flight of fancy. I thought I would repay you in kind." She rises from her chair, moves her hand to his cheek to sweep away the stray tears. "I know not what you are trying to accomplish with this tourney, I know simply that you are not your father and you are not Aegon V. If you do wish to take a lover, do so, I will not stop you, I did not marry expecting unwavering devotion." With the other hand she takes hold of his, holds it against her stomach. The swell is barely there, but it's noticeable, pray that it brings some sense to her husband. "I simply ask you that you remember the children who stand to inherit whatever it is we build. I do not plan on giving either of them a broken world, Rhaegar." Her lips brush against his forehead, linger for just a moment as she wonders if he truly listened, if anything she says can make a difference.   
  
And she slips away from him, drapes a scarf over her head, stops herself from losing any part of herself to whatever this marriage is. "I will go make sure Rhaenys doesn't give anyone too much trouble, I'm afraid she's grown fond of running off. Please consider my words." Please do not mention any more comets. She's grown tired of red comets.  
  
Instead he reaches for her hand, pulls her to him and kisses her lips. Gives her that moment to lose herself in him, in all that tragedy he seems to not be able to unwrap himself from. “I promise to you that all I do is to try and make sure there’s a world for our children to inherit, Elia.” She wants to hate him. More than anything, she wants to hate him until he can bear to trust her with more than vague prophecies written thousands of years ago. But, for the moment, all she can do is love… something about him, something she has never been able to place.  
  
Elia does not regret the harp.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I follow the theories that Rhaegar was the one behind the Harrenhal tourney and I typically think that Rhaegar's plan was to gather support to overthrow his father.


End file.
